She eBook

XXIII

THE TEMPLE OF TRUTH

Our preparations did not take us very long. We
put a change of clothing apiece and some spare boots
into my Gladstone bag, also we took our revolvers
and an express rifle each, together with a good supply
of ammunition, a precaution to which, under Providence,
we subsequently owed our lives over and over again.
The rest of our gear, together with our heavy rifles,
we left behind us.

A few minutes before the appointed time we once more
attended in Ayesha’s boudoir, and found her
also ready, her dark cloak thrown over her winding-sheetlike
wrappings.

“Are ye prepared for the great venture?”
she said.

“We are,” I answered, “though for
my part, Ayesha, I have no faith in it.”

“Ah, my Holly,” she said, “thou
art of a truth like those old Jews—­of whom
the memory vexes me so sorely—­unbelieving,
and hard to accept that which they have not known.
But thou shalt see; for unless my mirror beyond lies,”
and she pointed to the font of crystal water, “the
path is yet open as it was of old time. And now
let us start upon the new life which shall end—­who
knoweth where?”

“Ah,” I echoed, “who knoweth where?”
and we passed down into the great central cave, and
out into the light of day. At the mouth of the
cave we found a single litter with six bearers, all
of them mutes, waiting, and with them I was relieved
to see our old friend Billali, for whom I had conceived
a sort of affection. It appeared that, for reasons
not necessary to explain at length, Ayesha had thought
it best that, with the exception of herself, we should
proceed on foot, and this we were nothing loth to
do, after our long confinement in these caves, which,
however suitable they might be for sarcophagi—­a
singularly inappropriate word, by the way, for these
particular tombs, which certainly did not consume
the bodies given to their keeping—­were
depressing habitations for breathing mortals like ourselves.
Either by accident or by the orders of She,
the space in front of the cave where we had beheld
that awful dance was perfectly clear of spectators.
Not a soul was to be seen, and consequently I do not
believe that our departure was known to anybody, except
perhaps the mutes who waited on She, and they
were, of course, in the habit of keeping what they
saw to themselves.

In a few minutes’ time we were stepping out
sharply across the great cultivated plain or lake
bed, framed like a vast emerald in its setting of
frowning cliff, and had another opportunity of wondering
at the extraordinary nature of the site chosen by
these old people of Kor for their capital, and at
the marvellous amount of labour, ingenuity, and engineering
skill that must have been brought into requisition
by the founders of the city to drain so huge a sheet
of water, and to keep it clear of subsequent accumulations.
It is, indeed, so far as my experience goes, an unequalled
instance of what man can do in the face of nature,
for in my opinion such achievements as the Suez Canal
or even the Mont Cenis Tunnel do not approach this
ancient undertaking in magnitude and grandeur of conception.